If I were to meet my past self. (CHALLENGE)

[Φ CHERUB]

This is a site wide challenge I'm declaring, everyone is welcome to join. Even Lookie, though personally I think she's too young to really understand how much blood sweat and tears it takes to do something like this, she still has a few years before those regrets show up. Now I will say you can make it as happy or sad or funny as you want, personally mine will be sad. Mine also doubles as a cry for help that my family will probably never see. When it comes to crying out I've never been very loud. Also I'll be posting mine in a sort of story mode.

If I were to meet my past self, what would I say to her?

If I had to choose a past self to meet, I'd choose when I was 6. I can't remember much of my childhood to be honest, everything is kind of....blank....before bits and pieces of 6th grade. It isn't like many things got much better after that.

Of course I have to bring my attention back to that adorable little figure, poised straddling my lap as I sat with my back to the wall. I think at that age I was still wearing dresses. This had to be after Dad left, maybe this was the period of time when she still slept in the same bed as Mom, terrified she'd be abandoned by the woman in the middle of the night. Shaking my head I'd stroke the side of her face, running my hand through her hair in the fashion I still adored to this day, not that many people knew since I hated people getting too close now. I know that she would smile up at me, her eyes already holding that haunted fragile air, but at that time there was still a spark of hope. There had to be. I would call her cute, tell her that her dress was pretty, smile seeing the old stuffed animal, Baby, that I still had to this day safely tucked in her arms. I'd reflect for a few moments silently just staring at her sweet face, thinking back to the days where everyone had so much hope for me.

Of course she'd get impatient, squirm a bit, start looking around and ask me a few questions. If she even understood the purpose of the visit at 6, and I've always been told I was a bright child so hell let's assume she would in fact understand.

"What's it like being older?"

What could I tell her? It sucks, that's for sure. I'd much rather still be a child, try to reverse this shitty "growing up" thing my body keeps doing. I'd eye her dress, and bitterly consider telling her it's better to be so young, and tell her to get rid of those stupid dresses because Dad never liked them anyway. But I'd hold my tongue, feeling tears prick in my eyes and my head start to pound thinking of the stinging lonliness that ate away at me. I'd lick my lips, dry from stress, and whisper to her quietly since I wouldn't trust myself to lie loudly.

"It's...interesting...lots of new feelings."

I know she'd smile, I tried not to be sarcastic and bitchy to children, unless they deserved it. And let's face it, this poor poor girl really was going to have a hard enough time as it was.

'Does anything bad happen in the future?"

What am I supposed to tell her? Beware, Daddy starts doing something nasty called steroids, you're going to get really really scared of him, he's going to be very angry all the time. And you know you'll have a new stepmommy soon, her name is going to be Melissa and you'll love her with all of your heart, but her and Daddy won't get along at all. It'll be scary and violent, and you won't be able to protect Sammy or Lexi. Not at all, and you'll feel like shit for failing them when you fucking promised you'd take care of it, because Daddy's princess can do anything right? I couldn't bear to tell her how hard it was going to be. She was going to be used by her mother and father as a mediator, forced to play the role as perfect daughter between the both of them, with the consequences being severe and dire. It was pathetic how terrible and angry I felt, angry for not being able to have a fucking normal childhood with normal parents, how embarrassed I was at how I lived my life.

"Uh....a little. It'll be hard, but it'll get better."

For a while. Daddy will eventually stop using steroids, but you don't want to now where he gets his money with no job. Daddy's doing drugs now, harder stuff, and he's suddenly totally taken with you. He showers you with presents and affection and money, but at a price. You become his therapist, he tells you things you don't want to hear, he lies and he raves on and on, and worst of all he cries. He cries so much you can't bear it, and you feel empty every time you see it as though your soul is draining out along with his tears.You feel confused and hurt and upset, but these feelings you don't know how to deal with. And as time goes on, life just gets worse. You grow up and hit your middle school years. Those years were hell.

"Am I really smart?"

What do I tell a 6 year old? You absorb information when you feel like it, slide by tests with mediocre, hell good grades but you don't even care. By now most of your emotions have burnt out, all you feel is sadness and despair. You move a lot, you don't make any friends until you hit 6th grade. These friends will ruin your life, but you gain one best friend who will save your life. She understands you, her name is Molly. And guess what? She's just as jaded as you are now. Of course we can't forget Katelynn. You love Katelynn, you love her before you realize you're bisexual. By the way, you come out mid-8th grade. That girl will abandon you for about a year and a half, but she's been in love with you for years. And you were a fucking idiot and never saw it. Your heart will shatter when she gets into drugs, a bad relationship, and when your pleas fall on deaf ears.

"The smartest. So smart it makes people jealous."

"....why are you crying?"

How do I explain that all I can manage now is a few bitter tears? You've alienated yourself from so many people, that looking at a dear friend is like meeting a stranger. You can't remember names well, your memory is fuzzy. It's like your a burn out on drugs, only totally sober. Back to the story at hand. Katelynn vanishes, heart shattered Molly helps you piece it together, and how do I tell her oh by the way Molly loves you too? You ignorant bitch you never saw it. How do I explain to a little girl that at 14 she and Molly will decide life isn't worth living for, and make a suicide pact for when you two turn 16?

That's the plan, kill ourselves so we don't have to suffer this misery anymore. But it never happens, you end up trapped in a relationship and playing pseudo-mom to a girl who can't take care of herself. And get this, no matter how many times you lied to yourself it was a year and a half when you stopped loving her. But you stayed, out of pity and boredom and loneliness, and you cheated on her too. But she never blamed you, and to be honest you didn't see anything wrong with it. Seeking out something from someone else that she couldn't provide, that's all it was.

"It's nothing."

"....ok. Am I a good grownup?"

No. No you aren't. You're miserable and spiteful and full of such rage and disappointment. At this point all of your emotions are gone, you feel nothing day to day, a hollow shell that passes by. You fake a smile for mom and pretend to be motivated about things you don't care about. Keeping up the facade of being happy is important. No one knows that secretly for years you've been screaming out for help.

Please, someone, anyone, just....just help me.

Shockingly. No one answers. No one sees, the mask is too perfect, too solid. So you stop calling out. You stop asking. Breaking the peace for this is too....it's too much of a risk. But the stress is building up, and you start hearing voices in your head. You want to hurt yourself, but are too afraid of the pain. You start to push away, burrowing into an inner shell that no one's allowed in. You get angry, and though no one but your girlfriend can see, you get violent. You threaten to beat her. You threaten to kill her, in detail. And it makes you angry that she doesn't leave, because she doesn't try to help you. She just sits there and takes it.

Eventually you two break it off, all the suffering drains from you. And you realize, you're jaded. It's simple really, you just....don't feel.

"Uh....yeah..."

"Oh. Uhm....do I move away?"

Tears prick at my eyes again. No, I didn't move out. I didn't and I get asked why by mom all the time. And to be honest, I know perfectly well why I haven't moved out yet.

How do you explain to a 6 year old that you've lost the will to live?

If I moved out on my own, I'd kill myself within 3 months.

But you have to think of mom, she said she didn't want to bury her kid. So you don't. You suffer through life for her, because living for yourself is stupid when you have nothing to live for.

"No .....but..."

A thought occurs.

"You meet an angel."

She looks at me with shock and wonder, she has such a bright imagination and so many people will abuse it and slaughter it. So many dark thoughts will take place in that sweet little head.

"Her name... is Tasa. Just...things are going to get really bad ok? But....but she's going to make it better."

She'll take all the abuse and the pain and anger and frustration and she'll tell you it's going to be ok. And for once...it feels good. Everything feels good and you feel loved and safe and then you realize how far away she is....and you'll cry. You'll cry hard, because despite her efforts for the time being it isn't enough and all you do is destroy everything and you feel so AFRAID because you want to love her with everything you have. But you don't have anything left to give her, it's all ruined. All of it. So it worries you, and eats at what's left of you, you don't want to poison her. Because by now all you've done is become this toxic shell of a being who destroys everything you touch. But it's amazing, because she sees past the shell and reached out to the little girl who still lives deep inside you, trapped in all that poisonous goo and she holds that little girl's hand and tells her its going to be ok, and that fucking little girl is always so sad and angry but for once she feels loved. She feels loved for being her, and for once she doesn't feel like an ugly disgusting human being, she feels like something that matters.

"Is she pretty?"

How do you explain pure love to a 6 year old?

I end the meeting, I can't take this anymore. I send her off unsatisfied but somewhat hopeful, and I cry knowing how hard it will be for her. I cry because she'll be torn down and destroyed, and ripped to shreds before anything can come out of her. Her talent and motivation will liquify and slide down the drain when she cries in the shower. Her self-confidence will be non existant by the time she's 11. I cry because as she's walking away I already know her life is over, and that it ended in a pit of despair and verbal abuse.

How do you explain to yourself that the world isn't worth living in?

How do you explain that despite the fact you've given your heart and soul away to someone you love, you still want nothing more than to die?

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[AMETHYST COOK]

mine will be in a sort of diary/story form, but not exactly. i have had very sad moments in my life too, and if i had to choose a past self to talk to, i'd choose age four. a lot of things happened to me at that age, including finding out something about my dad and getting separation issues.

well, here goes.

age four me appears somehow, and i talk to her

she's standing right in front of me, crying. tears are flowing over her cheeks, and i figure that this is the day that i locked myself in my room after my mother told me that my dad was in a war, and he changed greatly after coming back. he was always mad and angry, and abused my older siblings. her loved my mother, you see, but she was afraid that he would abuse me when i grew up, so she ran away from him, moving to the state we are in now.

'we lived in a woman's shelter for two years, dearie, because i was afraid that your dad would find us and do something,' she had told me that day. i had already been crying then, as i sat on her lap and she held me.

"i don't understand!" my younger self suddenly says, crying harder and now sitting on the floor. i see she's wearing a dress; then i remember, it had been around christmas that she told me.

i smile gently and walk over to her, sitting next to myself and pulling her into me. "great christmas present that mom gave us, huh?" i ask her, and she stops crying for a second, hiccuping slightly.

"who are you?" she asks, and i point at me, then at her. "i'm an older you, ad i know what you're going through."

she hiccups a couple more time, digesting this, then asks me a question. "are you okay? you look sad."

i smile sadly, remembering how perceptive i already was at that age. "i guess you could say i'm not. do you know what bullying is," i ask, and she nods, not knowing what's coming next.

"well, i'm bullied a lot. it started in third grade, so be careful and buck up, kid," i say, still having that depressed smile on my face. i won't tell her that i've tried to kill myself many times, and my sanctuary is the computer and music. i won't tell her i've been in a mental hospital three times, and have anger issues. i won't tell her to much, or else she'll already be sad and my future will be changed.

suddenly, she dissapears, probably going back to where she belongs, with hopefully no recollection of what just happened. i burst out in tears, hoping that my own future will be better than the present.